


we are beginning

by littleleotas



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Love, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Mass Effect 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleleotas/pseuds/littleleotas
Summary: On days when the world doesn't feel real, Shepard turns to her partners to make her feel alive again.





	we are beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to combat a spell of feeling burnt out by writing some smut, as you do. Many, many thanks to the block for always being the ones to pull me out of a writing funk. ♥

The world didn’t feel real to Shepard anymore, most of the time. She reached out and was surprised to find her fingers brush something solid, as if she expected either herself or the world around her to be a ghost. The days passed without distinction, one into the next, and she found herself struggling to remember what it felt like to feel. Luckily, when she found herself adrift, she had two people to ground her in reality.

She reached out and was not surprised when her fingers brushed smooth, leathery turian skin, its familiar warmth radiating with an almost visible glow as it entered her body slowly. She stretched out her other hand, her other lover bringing her fingers to his pillowy lips and whispering, “Siha,” in a breathy exhale. Without a war she had no place in the rest of the world, untethered and unattached, but here, between Garrus and Thane, she felt anchored, and needed, and whole.

They sank to the bed with entangled arms, running their hands over any bare piece of skin they could find, ranging further afield as clothes were shed. In a sea of sensation she exhaled and closed her eyes, willing herself to focus on feeling one thing at a time. She leaned into Garrus’s pull as he gently leaned her back to rest her head against his shoulder, his grip neither firm nor loose on her shoulders, but _there_ , her skin tingling beneath his fingers as if waking up from numbness.

Thane’s hands, those hands that took countless lives, those hands that had brought so much death, were somehow so gentle, so soft as he moved them up the outsides of her thighs, kissing the inner skin as he went. There was a kindness to his touch that could not have existed for anyone but them, a kindness hardly any would associate with an accomplished assassin.

With a gasp she pushed her head back hard against Garrus and felt his arms encircle her, his fingertips tracing circles on her stomach as Thane’s body pressed against her legs. His lips continued upward, smirking as he kissed Garrus’s hands and kept moving up Shepard’s torso. Thane’s fingers – so shockingly gentle, still – closed around her nipple as he kissed between her breasts, and Garrus’s hand moved around Thane’s back to press him closer, the weight of the three of them a comfort, their bodies closed around hers like the completion of a puzzle.

Thane’s lips brushed her skin as they followed where his hands had been; he was so used to his hands leaving scars that he was compelled to kiss it better in their wake. He drew his tongue over her nipple before closing his mouth on it and sucking. She moaned softly, the hum of her voice thrumming through her chest, mingling with the sensation Thane caused. She moved her hand around his back and found Garrus’s there, and he moved his hand over hers. Their hands fell away as Thane moved, leaving kisses as he trailed his way down her body.

There was movement, as they all re-positioned, like the rustling of trees in a gentle breeze, or a small wave rushing onto shore – the natural movement of all things accommodating each other without request or apology. Thane re-settled himself between Shepard’s legs, gently pressing her thighs further apart, and Garrus moved his own legs on the outside of hers to make more room. He kissed the top of her head as she briefly pressed her cheek to his chest, the sound of his beating heart a reassurance – a drum beat, a backbone, the sound of the stillness of the world in the quiet hours when all it does is exist.

Thane’s fingers gently traced indeterminate shapes on her inner thigh and she felt the warmth of his breath as he lowered his head between her legs. She sighed as his tongue made contact with her clit, the tension she hadn’t recognised was holding her hostage leaving her body like shadows chased away by light. She gripped Garrus’s arm at her side as Thane’s tongue worked slowly, her eyes closed as she allowed the building sensation to carry her away.

With her other hand she touched Thane’s back and he hummed softly in recognition. The tingling heat moved up her body, her breathing growing shallow as it reached her chest. Thane responded with an increasing pace, and Garrus’s hand moved upward from her hip, his fingers brushing over her nipple. She gasped at the pressure as Garrus pulled slightly, her hips twitching upward and eliciting a chuckle from Thane.

Her shoulders rose with her exhilaration, no longer able to focus on an isolated sensation but surrounded by it. Her fingers shook, loosing their grip on Garrus’s arm, and she flexed them without intention, clawing at the empty air around them. _”Oh,”_ the only sound escaping her throat as her body pulled like a string between two points, suddenly snapped in the centre as her orgasm pulled every remnant of tension out of her, leaving her lying heavy in two pairs of arms.

The world returned to her as the numbness faded, and Thane moved himself up to kiss her, his face still slick from her. Fireworks at the edges of her vision made her giggle, Thane’s hallucinogenic kisses pulling her back out of reality; it was not the world of the ghost, the dragonfly in amber feeling of being out of time, but the world of the dream, the endless satisfaction of materialising happy thoughts. She pulled back, cool air hitting her face as she smiled at Thane and turned to Garrus. She put her arms around his neck and pulled herself close to him, and reality was back, the cinnamon and leather scent of him, the feel of his skin beneath her fingers calling to her, speaking in earnest whispers of the give and take of weaving oneself into the fabric of existence.

“Do you want more?” he asked, and it was the voice of the world asking her to come back to it.

“Yes,” she murmured, and she felt as though the sun came out from behind the clouds just to welcome her.

She leaned back into Thane’s embrace this time, with Garrus’s hands on her thighs, his touch solid and trustworthy – safe, was the word she meant: his touch made her feel safe and real. The gentle scrape of his mandibles against her inner thighs as she rested her legs over his shoulders left red lines that disappeared after a moment. Thane’s embrace was like a fog, his arms surrounding her with more than their physical presence. He braced a hand flat on her stomach, the other skating lightly over her breast as he pressed soft kisses along her neck and shoulder. Garrus took hold of her attention with a slow, pressured movement of his tongue, followed by quick, flicking licks, and the blue of the universe in his tongue impressed upon and within her the scope of experience, the exploding stars and the hands in hands.

Beneath Thane’s hand her stomach thrummed with increasing tension, Garrus’s long tongue curling inside her and drawing cries from her in a crescendo that seemed to rise in all three of their bodies. Thane’s panting breath at her neck and Garrus’s plaintive ministrations were like walls closing in, not in a threatening manner, but a physical manifestation of the concept of home, the rest of the world slowly being shut out as it came down to them and only them.

She covered Thane’s hand with her own and grasped at Garrus’s fingers on her thigh, lacing their fingers together as best she could. Her cries strangled in her dry throat and she swallowed. Their hands squeezed her in a silent question, and she nodded. “Don’t stop,” she whispered hoarsely, and they didn’t. The brief memory of feeling nothing felt so long ago, as now she felt everything – the world, in balance between them, the tangible and intangible, like everything that was ever needed was there, holding each of her hands.

Garrus moaned softly into her, his tongue sliding over her clit. She gasped, pressing her face against Thane’s chest. Her grip on their hands tightened, then loosened, her cry almost a sigh of relief as the tension left her again and she melted into them. The blood rush in her ears blocked out all other sound, and her eyes clouded with spots of colour, but she felt Garrus rise to lie his head on her stomach, and she felt Thane’s kiss on her temple, and if all she had was feeling, it would be enough.

The world didn’t have to feel real, she thought; the world was no longer her responsibility. Better days would come where she could give as well as receive, but on the bad days she reached out and they reached back, the only ones not asking anything of her except to let them catch her. She could not think of words to say what it meant to her to exist in those moments, when three breaths slowed to the same speed and fingers that didn’t quite fit found their way around each other. The words, perhaps, did not matter. She had them, and they had her, and everything that was real was the experience between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from that well-worn classic of fanfic melodrama, "In Our Bedroom After the War" by Stars, which will forever make me think of these three only.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr at verhexen/avelakjar if you want to come say hi!


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